Vendetta
by Purrr
Summary: Draco Malfoy has found a way to get revenge on Harry, and it involves jealousy, lust, friendship...And Hermione. 'The only thing left was whether his seduction skills were up to the job...' d&h, h
1. The worst kind of pain

Kudos to J.K. Rowling, for pretty much everything. She owns it all, so don't even say the word 'legalities' or I'll have a heart attack.

Reviews make my world go round, honestly, so please make my day by posting one!

**Vendetta **

Chapter One: The worst kind of pain

_A small coastal town in Italy. _

_The latest saying amongst the village women was that the only thing more beautiful than the beach was the boy who walked there. He was a tourist, the gossips said, with his parents on a visit from England. _

_The 'English' part would earn anyone gawpers in this part of the country, but it was his good looks which interested the women.He was pale as the white sand, they said poetically, and when Maria called out, he turned sea-grey eyes upon her face. "And his body's not half bad either" said those in the know – and there were rather a lot of them, as he'd been staying in the hotel for upwards of two weeks. _

_He wasted no time, that Draco Malfoy. _

------------

"Aha!"

Draco sat up. The brunette curled next to him plucked at the blankets and pouted.

He ignored her.

All of the summer holidays, Draco had been brooding over how to get revenge on his enemy. There was a great deal of humiliation and pain that he owed Harry Potter, and this year was his last chance to pay it back. But Draco was looking for something more subtle than an alleyway beating - mind games were better because they left invisible wounds.

He had thought about it on the train back from Hogwarts, on the way to join his parents in Italy, on the walks through sun-baked streets, during the gourmet meals at expensive restaurants, and at night – unless he was otherwise occupied. It was bordering on obsessive; it WAS obsessive. And now he finally had it: a way to get to Perfect Potter without harming a hair on his head.

"Hermione," Draco whispered, a slow grin sliding over his features. The brunette sat up.

"My name isn't Hermione," she said, glaring.

Draco wasn't listening. He twitched the covers off and started to look for his clothes, brain whirring with possibilities.

Kidnap her? No, that was a ridiculous idea, not to mention one that would bring them closer together. He ran a hand through his blond hair by way of a brushing and pulled on his pants. The girl was saying something in an angry babble of Italian as he gave up the search for his shirt and headed for the door.

The hallways connecting the bedrooms opened onto a courtyard. Cool morning air met his bare skin, and he could smell the sea. He needed some coffee and breakfast, which they could presumably produce, in this exclusive hotel, at five in the morning. Draco shut the door behind him and set off towards the stairs.

To his horror, he heard it open again and turned to see the brunette storming towards him, her sleek body wrapped only in a sheet. Oops. Apparently Italian girls had more spunk about these things than their English sisters.

----------------------

"Draco."

"Yes father."

"You should know something."

"Yes father?"

Lucius bent over his son.

"I do NOT APPRECIATE having to get a breakfast room WITH A DOOR THAT LOCKS so that YOUR FLOOZIE can't get at you with a CARVING KNIFE!"

There was a brief pause.

"It was a steak knife, father."

"Whatever it was, you would have deserved it," said Lucius. "This is appalling conduct Draco; having Muggle girls right left and centre -"

"Yes, I hope you said thank you to her, dear," interjected Mrs. Malfoy. Father and son turned to stare at her.

"Mother, she chased me around the dining room with a knife. Of course I didn't thank her."

"You were lucky there weren't many people about, Draco." Lucius started to count on his fingers. "You will replace the china tea set from your own savings. You will stay away from girls – yes, all girls - until the end of this trip, and you will never, ever, let this happen again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, father."

"Well, I was happy to see that she wasn't hurt when they got the knife away," said Mrs. Malfoy. "Always remember that a gentleman never hits a lady."

Draco, who had jumped over two tables to avoid getting stabbed, mumbled something about being 'too busy'.

"That will be all, Draco." Lucius said. "Go away. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day."

Draco spent the rest of the day in his room, thinking. By the time he wandered onto the balcony that evening (it was safe by because Maria's brothers had been taken into custody), the plan was fully formed.

Finding the way to inflict the most damage had been a problem until Draco remembered something he had read once, that the worst kind of pain was emotional. He had never been in love, so he had never broken his heart; but he knew what jealousy felt like and how unpleasant it was (not to mention beneath him).

Gryffindors were famed for their bravery and loyalty – poor things got all the worst traits – but Potter was also famous for his pride. If he were to seduce the mudblood under Potter's very nose – even better, if she were a willing prey – that would cause jealousy. And if he played it right he could leave enough of an opening for Potter to fall in love with Granger (it would be unrequited of course; that's where Draco came in), which would cause heartache, and that was supposed to be the worst feeling in the world.

The only thing left was whether his seduction skills were up to the job.

---------

Hermione Granger stepped out of the train bathrooms and directly into Harry Potter.

"Harry!"

He steadied her, and grinned. "Hermione!"

She scowled. "Don't mock me. I'm having a bad enough day already."

"What happened?" He glanced down and his eyes widened. "What are you wearing?"

She tugged the skirt down uncomfortably. She liked skirts, but this one was so small she felt like she was flashing everyone her panties - which were a faded green, and not at all the ones she would have picked to be on display.

"Something spilled on my pants. This was the only extra clothing anyone had and I forgot my robe in the compartment."

"Isn't it a little..."

"Short? Yes." She felt his eyes on her and added, "It's only until we get to Hogwarts, Harry."

"Yeah, well, as long as you don't make it a habit, right? I don't want my Hermione getting into trouble."

She bristled at the condescension. "I'll wear what I please, Harry Potter. And I'm not 'yours.'"

Harry shrugged. "No offence, Herm. I was just joking." His eyes strayed down to her skirt again.

"Just go," she said, irritated at Harry, his use of her hated nickname, and calling her 'his' when they were really only friends. Why the last one bothered her in particular, she wasn't quite sure.

"Find Ron and I'll be there in a minute."

"You want me to walk you back?" He slung a placatory arm around her shoulders. It meant nothing to him, she knew, it was just a habit – and that irritated her too. He put his arm around everyone.

"Harry? This is a train. I'm not going to get lost."

He backed away, hands high in mock defeat.

"OK, OK, I'm going. I'll warn – I mean, tell – Ron that you're on your way."

She glared at his retreating back, and immediately felt bad about the whole fiasco. What was wrong with her? It must be coming up on that time of the month , because she wasn't usually this grumpy, especially with her best friends. Maybe that was the problem, she mused. She kept very definite lines around her friendship with the two boys, and Harry kept crossing them – so casually – and confusing her. Or maybe she was just coming down with a cold. Whatever it was, the situation wasn't helped by the miniskirt. She tugged it down again and decided that Harry had just been surprised to see her wearing such a garment since usually she was a very conservative dresser. The sooner she got out of it, preferably without anyone noticing, the better.

"Lost, Granger?" Came a voice behind her, and she turned to see Draco Malfoy watching her from the hallway, arms crossed.

"What are you doing here?" she spat, and then winced because it was a stupid line, really.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He indicated the bathrooms with a tilt of his head. "Is it your new hobby to ambush people at the bathroom door and make sure they really, really have to go?"

"Go stuff it, Malfoy. I was changing."

He smirked. The miniskirt and her obvious discomfort with it hadn't escaped him.

"Really? You've forgotten to put clothing on your lower half." He wrinkled his brow in mock concern. "Would you like my cloak to cover up with?"

She drew herself up, looking rather pretty with her cheeks so pink. Pity about the hair, Draco thought; she might have amounted to something.

"If I had needed a cloak, Malfoy, I would have asked for it. From Harry, who actually _cares _."

"_Harry _just made a nuisance of himself; I saw the whole thing." He leered. "Should I arrange to have him taken care of?"

"Can't you come up with something better than death threats, Malfoy? It's getting a bit lame." She attempted to brush past him, but it's hard to brush by something that won't move out of your way.

"You thought I was threatening him?" He paused and considered. "Well, yes, I suppose I was. But think of all the bother it would save you!"

"Harry wasn't bothering me. Harry never bothers me." Short of beating on his chest, there was no way she could make him move.

He smirked down at her and then twisted his face up and said squeakily:

"Oh, Hermy, what a short skirt you're wearing! You shouldn't be out in it, Hermy! Hermy, I won't stand for it!" And then in a slightly deeper voice,

"Hermy, take it off right now..."

Hermione stared at him. He had unfurled himself and moved closer until he was almost on top of her.

He was not Harry, but... She had to look up to see...The closeness of his body was very...close...

And he stood there for a moment, almost touching her at every point.

With the wall at her back, there was no direction she could move that wouldn't bring her into contact with him; he had her pinned without laying a finger on her. And he knew it:

"What are you going to do now, Granger?" he said quietly.

Hermione's brain was not working very well. She was focused on two things, and everything else was a blur. One was how close he was, and her sudden awareness of his masculinity. The other was the scent of him, which was very difficult to describe but made her think of satin bed sheets. Then the train swayed, making her stagger, and she came to her senses. Draco Malfoy, insulting Harry and then getting into her personal space and making her thoughts run around in idiotic circles? She raised her eyes to his face, which was wearing the patented smirk, and was suddenly furious.

Draco wasn't intending to do anything serious - in fact, what he was doing now wasn't strictly part of his plan - so he wasn't prepared for the knee that she raised. He had a second to contemplate what good aim she had, and then he doubled up in agony.

"I think I like miniskirts," she said, "they allow great freedom of movement." She bared her teeth and then turned and was gone.


	2. More than a simple bedding

_.K. is the (VERY LUCKY) woman who owns Draco and Harry (did I mention how lucky she was?) and everything except the plot, which is mine. Also, a round of applause to my beta, Spoons are for Marmalade Skies. _

_Review! Review! _

Chapter Two: More than a simple bedding

Draco paced up and down the compartment, tripping over Blaise's legs and wincing slightly on every second step. He was very pleased with himself, despite the pain in his lower regions: just on the train and he had already started phase A of the Potter Vendetta. It had gone differently that he expected - he hadn't been prepared for the knee, for instance - but she had definitely been breathing quickly when he leaned over her.

"Okay, so you bed her and make Potter jealous," Blaise summarized. Draco had been updating him. "Is that all?"

"More than a simple bedding, Zabini. Imagine Potter's face if he saw Granger in _love _with me."

"That will be tricky," said Blaise, without thinking. "Er, not that you aren't perfectly, uh, lovable and, um..."

He trailed off as Draco glowered at him. "Granger will be head over heels, I assure you. I have it all planned out." He stopped pacing and assumed a lecturing stance.

"First, I make her aware of me physically, because you can't deny lust as quickly as you can love. Plus it's going to drive her crazy that it's me she's getting hot over, and not a Gryffindor like Weasel-for-brains. Then I start the lovey-dovey stuff; you know, cards-" Blaise raised his eyebrows.

"And flowers -"

Blaise stared.

"And all that junk."

Blaise looked relieved.

"Which will reassure her that I'm not taking advantage. Then follow up with friendship and protection, and she's in the bag." Draco finished triumphantly.

"Hmm," said Blaise. "Won't this involve spending a lot of time with the Mudblood?"

"Yes," said Draco, with a grimace. "And you have no idea, Zabini, what that is going to cost me. Have you seen her _hair _?" A spasm of horror crossed his face.

"I have to say I haven't," said Blaise. "I try to avoid looking at Gryffindors."

"Well, it's all...frizzy. It's frizzy."

Draco hated frizzy hair. He liked sleek, tamed locks which could be twisted around a finger and were cool to the touch, not uncontrolled curls that were coarse and got up your nose when you bent your head over it, they way he was sure Granger's would.

"Are you going to tell everyone else?" Blaise wasn't sure this vendetta thing was a good idea, but figured Draco would lose interest (the odds were good) before he got very far.

"Yes of course, everyone has to know or they'll think I'm actually pursuing her. You can help me with that. Enlighten Crabbe and Goyle in only the basics, though, and the Slytherins don't have to know anything except not to interfere." He paused. "Oh, and I want the Delmont twins sent to me the moment feast is finished."

"Right."

Draco started pacing again.

"You think this will work, then? What if Potter doesn't fall for Granger?"

"It'll work. Even if there's nothing romantic between them now, I can rely on Potter's sense of protectiveness, don't you think?" Draco grinned. "And from what I saw, Potter's at least aware that she's a female, which is a start."

"It's rather observant of him, actually," said Blaise.

--------------

Harry scratched his head absently and watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

"Pay attention, mate! It's your go this half hour." Ron was glaring at him across the chess set.

"Oh, sorry," he said, moving a piece randomly to keep Ron happy.

Hermione was being uncharacteristically quiet, curled up in a corner of the compartment with a text of some kind, studying. She was actually trying to wind down a little by reading the Potions book, but the first chapter was all love potions and she didn't like them on principle. Also, every time she read the word 'lust' a picture of Malfoy appeared in her head, totally uncalled for.

She remembered the way his hair had fallen into his face when he leaned over her in the hall, then banished it, feeling angry all over again. Thinking about the look on his face when she kneed him didn't help either; she just felt bad. He hadn't done anything to her except insinuate, with maybe a touch of physical intimidation, which, really, wasn't anything she minded –

Her thoughts were cut short by Ron, who was yelling something about concentrating at Harry...Who was looking over at her. She looked away quickly, then wished she hadn't. She had been feeling awkward around him since their meeting outside the loos. A lot of that had to do with Malfoy, bugger him, because she kept remembering Harry's eyes on her skirt, and then a replay of Malfoy's voice saying "Take it off right now..."

She stifled a sigh. With his easy smile and tousled good looks, Harry was on most of the girls' wanted lists. Hermione had gotten a lot of jealous looks over the years from his various girlfriends, for the easy friendship they had, and she had explained each time that Harry was about as interested in her as Ginny was. Adding privately that it was a good thing, too. It made her life so much easier. She made a face and turned back to her book.

In the background, Ron said: "Harry, you can't do that with a rook. They can only move in straight lines – what's gotten into you?"

------------

The Great Hall was filled with the happy buzz of students talking, laughing, and swearing as they tried to find good seats. The walls had been decorated with the four proud house flags, and the floating candles shed a golden glow that made everybody look nice.

It did nothing, however, to make the pointy black school hats look better. Hermione growled as Ron 'lost' his for the fourth time.

"I can see it, Ron, it's right behind you. Just put it on, for God's sake."

"But they look terrible, Hermione. Who wants to look like they've got a great chimney growing out of their head?"

"Hermione does," said Seamus, tweaking hers.

"Stop it Seamus. Ron, I know they look bad, but it's mandatory."

"Yeah, Ron, it's school rules," said Harry. "And they don't look that bad. Not so much a chimney as, say, an out-of-control bedhead."

"You're not wearing yours," said Ron, outraged.

"I gave it to Lavender," said Harry piously.

"What? Why?"

"She couldn't find hers."

"That's cause you nicked it on the way in!"

"The point," said Harry, "is that she needed another one. And being a courteous, helpful kind of person who has a lot of foresight, I gave her mine."

"Hermione, if he doesn't have -"

"Ron, you're a prefect; you're supposed to be setting a good example."

"Stuff the good example!"

Hermione seized the hat, jammed it on his head, and glued it there with a sticking charm.

Then she took hers off and looked expectantly at the high table, where Dumbledore was standing up. Ron was too busy wrestling with his hat to notice, but Harry scooted over and whispered:

"You're a prefect too, you hypocrite."

"Yes, but I'm a girl," she whispered back. He looked surprised.

"What does that have to do with it?"

"It musses my hair," she said, batting her eyelashes. "Now hush, the Sorting is starting."

"Gryffindor!"

Draco was watching the Gryffindor table anyway, so he didn't need to look over at the new member. He had seen the little scuffle between Hermione and Ron and had agreed with the redhead: Draco would never have worn the hat if he looked as bad in it as Weasley did. He observed Potter and Granger's whisperings with a smirk, and bided his time.

"Hufflepuff!"

Hermione clapped as someone or the other joined a house, and wished it were over so she could eat something.

"Krevit, Nole!"

She shushed Ron as he fell off the bench, still grappling with his hat.

"Slytherin!"

She glanced over at the Slytherin table, and met Draco Malfoy's gaze. He was looking at her, just watching, from across the room. She met his eyes defiantly, but that faded quickly when he didn't look away, and she found herself returning his stare. The nature of human eyes is such that when you look intently into them, the connection is hard to break. So she didn't even notice how grey his eyes were; she was absorbed by their focus – and for just one moment, they shared that link.

Then the boy next to him said something, and he turned away. But she sat there, feeling a little shocked, and even Ron noticed how quiet she was through dinner.

-------------

The Delmonts caught up with Draco on his way to the Slytherin common room. He had taken a hidden passage through the portrait of Enid the Scrumptious, but they were waiting for him on the other side nonetheless. Mara and Caspian Delmont were the unlikely looking but extremely efficient Slytherin spymasters; they saw pretty much everything that went on in Hogwarts and reported it to Draco. Draco couldn't for the life of him figure out how they got the information they did, but he didn't ask questions.

They were holding hands, as was their habit, and it only added to the strangeness of their appearance. Draco remembered the time he had had last year squashing a nasty rumour that the twins were lovers. He knew it wasn't true, but he could see how it had started.

Caspian was the most beautiful boy Draco had ever seen, and Draco looked at himself in the mirror every day, so that was saying something. The boy had an angelic face, and in the dim light of the hallway he almost glowed. This was because Caspian was colourless from the tips of his white hair to his translucent skin: he was an albino, complete with abnormal eye colour. His irises were a bright, inhuman red, but he kept them charmed a light green so they didn't make people nervous.

Mara in comparison looked darker than she really was. Brown hair fell about her pointed face and angular cheekbones, and she was as slender and graceful as her brother. She was also the more outgoing of the two, having occasional fuck-buddies (including Draco).

"Blaise said you wanted to see us," said Caspian. He had a very clear voice, with no trace of an accent.

"Yes," said Draco. "I have some news for you." He told them the outline of his plan as they walked down the stairs.

"And our part in this?" asked Mara, when he was finished.

"Keep an eye on Harry and Hermione, I would guess," said Caspian.

"We already watch Harry."

"Well, just Granger then," said Draco. They exchanged looks, and he added, "Yes, I know you don't concern yourself with sordid romance and that this is all rather beneath you, but you'll have to manage. I want to know all the important little details, like what colour her knickers are. Report directly to me."

--------------

_A/N: Some plot points of the next chapter : a midnight interruption, the almost love of Blaise's life...and shirtless Harry. Ah, now you're paying attention. _

_This is how things work: you review, I get motivated, another chapter miraculously appears. It's like magic! _


	3. The Physical Variety

** Chapter Three**

The physical variety

Back in the Gryffindor common room, everything was raucous as people caught up after their long separation. Hermione tried to get some serious pre-homework-study going, but Harry was playing exploding snap right in her line of vision, and he looked so adorably ferocious with his eyebrows on fire than she kept getting distracted. Once he caught her eye and grinned and she was surprised to have to suppress the urge to cry, scream or hit something. She had never denied that he was gorgeous, even to her outer consciousness, but he was also funny and caring and fierce - he was so good to be around sometimes it made her hurt. It was hard not to like him in a more-than-platonic way.

She stopped mid-sigh, and looked up.

Why the bloody fucking hell, she thought suddenly, should she keep deluding herself? There was definitely non-platonic attraction going on, at least on her part. And maybe even on his part a little; she was much better equipped now to see it. Anyway, liking him wasn't the same as being with him, so there was no harm in it. And that would leave her free to daydream...

_Harry...His strong arms around her as they sat by the lake, doing homework. Everyone chatting away merrily but knowing when they looked at her that she was 'Harry Potter's girl'. And he'd turn and look down at her, with his blond hair falling across his face_-

Wait a moment...

Hermione opened her eyes and glanced around guiltily. Biting her lip, she decided not to try any more daydreams about Harry for the time being. The problem was that anything at all amorous with her friend had to be imagined, whereas Malfoy was a memory, already there in her head. Not, she added quickly, that she would allow him to be amorous in any way on her person, no sir. But there was no harm in replaying it, was there?

-----------------------------------

Things calmed down in the common room. She fell asleep in her chair and was roused by the boys as they went up to bed. "Sleep well," said Harry.

But no-one got much sleep that night. At about four in the morning, the girl's dorm was jerked awake as the staircase alarm went off. The horrid wailing echoed all through the common room, but Hermione couldn't hear it because Lavender, who wasn't the calmest of heads, was screaming so loudly.

"Murder! Suicide!"

"What's going on?"

"Oh my god! Murder!"

"Murder? What!"

"No!" yelled Hermione, falling out of bed in her haste to stop Lavender before she sent everyone else into hysterics as well. "It's just the stair wards. Calm down, everyone."

"Help, help!"

"Lavender, be quiet!"

The alarm screamed on. Hermione felt the vestiges of panic coming on, set off purely by the noise, and decided to deal with the things she could reach.

"Murder!"

She slapped Lavender soundly, left her – stone silent - in the care of Parvati, and hurried downstairs.

The common room was full of people in their pyjamas. She ran into Seamus at the bottom of the staircase.

"Turn it off," he yelled at her, fingers in his ears.

"I don't know how," she yelled back. "Someone go and get McGonnigal."

"Harry's already gone," he said.

Right on cue, the door burst open and two people hurried in. It was hard to tell who caused the most stir: McGonnigal, who was wearing a plaid nightgown and hair-rollers, or Harry, who was wearing only boxers. Hermione would have laid a lot of money on it being Harry as she felt Parvati choke beside her. And no wonder, because he had quite impressive musculature, and it was being shown off to full advantage as he jogged after McGonnigal.

She waved her wand and the alarm warbled strangely and went quiet. The silence was deafening.

"Is everyone alright?" Asked McGonnigal.

"We are now," she heard Parvati say from behind her, and was about to turn around and send her up to bed when someone said:

"Lavender has fainted, Professor,"

"I will deal with Miss Brown in a moment." McGonnigal turned to address the room, looking rather fearsome in her tartan. "There is nothing to be distressed about. The alarm, as some of you know, goes off if a boy tries to get into the girl's dormitories. That was the cause of the noise, nothing more. You should all return to your beds." She went up the stairs and the common room broke into noisy discussion.

"You ok?" Hermione turned to see Harry at her elbow.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. What a ruckus, though."

"That's for sure." He gave her a funny look. "Is that what you sleep in?"

She looked down at the shorts and tank top she usually wore to bed. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," he said, "is wrong with it."

"Where's Ron?" Seamus popped up beside her, and she could have killed him.

"I haven't seen him," she said, hoping this would make him go away.

"No worries, he probably slept through the whole thing," Seamus said, but he raised his eyebrows at Harry, who frowned. Hermione had the distinct impression that she was being left out of something.

"Wait, there he is now."

Harry turned to wave at Ron, and Hermione got a beautiful view of his bare back. She supposed quiddich had something to do with it, but he had sure filled out a lot in the past few years. He still wasn't as tall as Ron, but he was several inches taller than she was. From where he stood above her on the staircase, she could have leant forward and kissed the spot exactly between his shoulder blades.

"Bed!"

Hermione jumped, and Harry looked over with a sly grin.

"Bed, everyone, at once," continued McGonnigal. "You will all be zombies tomorrow in class. Miss Granger, can I have a word?"

"Night, Hermione," said Harry, turning to go. Seamus gave her a flamboyant wink by way of farewell, and Hermione could have sworn she heard him say "Ouch! What was that for?" as they walked away.

------------------------------

Draco heard about the Gryffindor dorm kafuffle the minute he stepped into his common room the next morning. Caspian appeared at his elbow with the early news, his slightly sleepy eyes making him more beautiful.

"The owl repeating the Sorting Hat's song has been sent to your father, Lucius. We are organizing the scouts; a copy of the proposed assignments is here. The girl's alarm went off in Gryffindor Tower last night at around four A.M., waking the entire house. We have not discovered the colour of Hermione's undergarments."

Draco suspected him of mockery at this last, but the boy's face was it's usual day dreamy self.

"Why did it go off?"

"A boy tried to climb the staircase."

"Do you know who it was?"

"No."

"Well, I'd like you to find out. Leave a copy of the scout schedule in my dorm - you kept in mind that I want Granger on double watch as well as Potter?"

Caspian nodded.

"Oh, and do you have the class timetables?"

The boy pulled a colour-coded piece of parchment out of his pile and handed it over. Draco noted with interest that Slytherin was sharing both Potions and Herbology with Gryffindor this term. That should make things interesting.

He made his way over to the couches, where the rest of his gang was waiting for him, and took a moment to inspect them before they all went down to breakfast.

Crabbe and Goyle, hunched in the corner like the rocks their brains resembled, were still in Hogwarts only because Draco got someone else to do their homework. They were his brawn, since Draco preferred to keep his athletic fame out of harm's way; and as loyal as they came.

The Delmont girl was missing, probably out working, but Caspian was standing behind Goyle, seeming tiny in comparison.

Blaise was lounging on the couch, eating a muffin and looking tired. The dark boy held the coveted position of 'right hand man', and was as close to Draco as anyone got. He had a quirky sense of humour, was quick with insults, and had ridiculously long eyelashes that brushed his cheek whenever he looked down. It looked a little like he was wearing eyeliner, making his eyes very dramatic.

A twitch in the corner of the couch drew Draco's attention to the sleeping form of Selene Appella. Draco watched Blaise lean forward and brush a strand of short brown hair out of the freckled face. She was the only girl he and Blaise had ever fought over: there had been brief competition before Draco decided it wasn't worth his trouble and let Blaise have her. She was not especially beautiful and her most outstanding attribute was sinful laziness, but she had somehow captivated them both. Draco let her be in the group because she was something to Blaise and because she was deceptively intelligent. Selene, for her part, didn't seem to have noticed Blaise above anyone else.

"Why is everyone in here asleep?" Draco asked grumpily, even though Selene was the only one sleeping. Blaise glanced down at her and shrugged.

"Tired, I guess."

"Mornings always make me sleepy," said Selene, without opening her eyes. Blaise jerked up and scrambled back to his own couch in very un-Zabini-like discomfiture at being caught hovering.

Just like Draco, Blaise could mask his emotions, but unlike Draco, who's countenance simply became blank, Blaise covered his true feelings with other feelings. He smiled constantly, and it was as much of a facade as Draco's expressionless-ness. Draco judged his current half-grin to mean he was embarrassed, and wondered why he skipped around the girl instead of asking her out like a normal person would. Or just sleeping with her, like Draco would.

"Well, come on then." He said, and lead them down to breakfast.

------------------------

"You will have noticed the change in seating," Said Snape first thing when everyone was assembled in the gloomy classroom later that day.

Hermione, who hadn't noticed anything and was sitting as usual between Harry and Ron, looked up.

"I have grown tired of the constant disruptions from the students who gossip in class." Snape's eyes lingered on them. "This year, I am splitting up the chatterboxes. See the seating chart." He indicated a parchment on his desk.

Amid murmurs of dismay, the class re-arranged itself. Ron, Harry and Hermione were all far from each other, and Hermione knew this meant bad things for the boy's potion marks. She was more concerned about her possible seat-mates, but relaxed when she saw that the chair beside her was unoccupied.

"Now," said Snape, "open your books to page 63-"

The door swung open, cutting him off, and Draco Malfoy entered, followed by a tall black boy that Hermione had seen with him before. She seethed when Snape merely gave them a warning rather than taking off points the way he would have if they were Gryffindors. There was a brief pause as they examined the seating chart, and then another pause as Malfoy had a heated discussion _sotto voce _with his companion, and then to her horror, he walked to the chair beside her and started unpacking his potion kit. She caught matching expressions of dismay on Ron and Harry's faces before Snape started speaking again.

"Love Potions are possibly the most dangerous potions in existence. Though you should make the important distinction between lust and love in this case: the term 'love potion' is a misnomer because wizard-kind has never found a way to create true love. The love referred to is either of the physical variety or is simple obsession or infatuation, all of which are confused with true love, and all of which we are going to learn how to simulate in this class. I trust I need not elaborate on the importance of total concentration when making these potions, or the dire punishments you will suffer should you try to remove the finished potions from the classroom."

He glared around at the students. In any other classroom, thought Hermione, the terms 'love potion' and 'physical' would have been the start of endless jokes, but with Snape everyone was too worried that they would be forced to drink their potions at the end of class.

"We will be making a basic lust potion to start. Everyone turn to page 63 and start working with your partner. Any messing about and I'll dock house points."

Hermione turned reluctantly to Malfoy, who was flicking through the potions manual.

"Are you going to be sitting here for the rest of the year?" She asked, as rudely as possible. His eyes flicked up to measure her face and then back down to the pages, as though she wasn't interesting enough to merit an answer.

This irritated her. "I _said-_"

"I heard what you said, Granger. Yes, I will likely be sitting here for the rest of the term." He turned a bland look on her. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I certainly do."

Nothing seemed to ruffle his composure; he merely tapped the open page and said: "Where's the powdered tree-frog?"

Hermione pointed wordlessly to the cupboard in the corner, hating Snape's seating chart, Malfoy, and potions class; not in that order.

"You get that while I start the fire."

"What, you're actually planning on working?"

"Having a partner who knows what he's doing should be a nice change for you," Malfoy said, not missing a beat. The double entendre was not lost on her.

"I'd rather work with someone who didn't get good marks just because they kissed the teacher's ass."

"Don't be so harsh on yourself, Granger."

"What? I was talking about you!"

"Yes, most girls do."

She gave up in disgust. 'I loathe you, Malfoy."

"Yes, I know." He said, a touch dryly. "But you'd better not sabotage our potions, you hear?" Though from the look on his face, he knew she was incapable of doing anything that would lower her mark. And unfortunately for her, this term her mark would be related to how well they worked together. She stumped off to the cupboard.

"Where's the tree-frog?" Asked Malfoy, when she came back a moment later.

"I can't get it."

"What? Why not?"

"I can't reach it." She said, through gritted teeth. He looked down at her, actually appearing amused for a moment.

"Your wand is on hiatus today?"

"I'd have to use a levitating charm,"

"Sounds good to me." He turned back to his work.

"...And they aren't good for precise work." She finished.

"What, is this the great Hermione 'no spell is too hard' Granger speaking?"

Hermione hesitated before answering. Normally she could have levitated it out, but it was a tricky spell to control minutely, and she was just too tired from the previous night to attempt it. Not that she was going to tell Malfoy this, of course.

"It's behind a whole bunch of other jars, and I don't feel like getting egret blood in my hair, thanks."

He looked like he was going to say something rude, but then shrugged and said, "Fine. I'll get it."

Things continued in a bad vein for Hermione for the next half hour. She made a mistake reading in the directions that could have cost them the potion, and only Malfoy's quick work made the bubbling mixture turn to the correct clear serum. On top of everything love potions were notable for the amount of steam they created, so the room was quickly sweltering. She was exhausted from the previous night's interruption and Malfoy did nothing to make things more comfortable - in fact he barely looked at her, which really drove her mad for some reason.

"You could make eye contact, you know. I'm not a bloody house-elf." She finally snapped, pushing damp hair out of her eyes. He turned deliberately and looked her up and down, from sensible shoes to frizzy brown hair.

"You're right." He said. "You're not a house-elf."

The steam settled around his face, giving him a ghostly look. She snarled despite the appreciative, artistic part of her mind, which was whispering about beauty and the advantages of mist.

"There is water at the front of the class," came Snape's voice. "Put the potions into your glass containers and bring them to me. They should be ready after the water-break."

"Do you need a drink?" It was Neville, looking anxious. She correctly guessed that he was covering an attempt to ask for potions advice. The poor boy had been partnered with Draco's tall companion, and he said the Slytherin was very bad-tempered. Hermione was very glad of the water he brought, and drank several gulps of it before she detected the funny after-taste.

"Neville, where did you get this water?"

'Up there," said Neville. Draco followed his pointing finger and snorted.

"Idiot prick. The water is over there." He jerked a thumb in the opposite direction.

Hermione looked wide eyed at the liquid in her glass, which on second inspection looked far too much like the potion she had just finished. The room felt warmer all of a sudden, and she remembered that this was supposed to be fast acting stuff. Malfoy looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Well? How do you feel? You're the first guinea pig of the season."

She blinked. Why, he looked quite nice with that leer on his face. Why hadn't she noticed before? Then realizing what she was thinking, the overwhelming need to get out before she did something stupid took over. She jumped up, knocking the half-empty potions glass to the floor, and ran out the door.

It took a moment for the confusion back in the classroom to be sorted out. Eventually Draco explained everything to Snape, who actually looked relieved. Draco guessed there were a lot worse things Granger could have swallowed.

"Go after her, Malfoy," said Snape contemptuously. "Potter, stay in your seat. This mess has to be cleaned up."

Malfoy finally found Granger outside the castle, pattering across the snowy ground without a cloak on.

"Granger!"

He strode up, intending to get her back inside before either of them froze. It was only when he got closer that he noticed the light burning in her eyes and realized she had taken more potion than he though. She looked him up and down, eyes narrowed, breath coming in spirals of steam from her parted lips. Draco noted that her cheeks were bright from the heat of the potion and the cold was making her shiver. He became aware that this situation was possibly the best continuation of his vendatta that he could ask for.

Hermione was seeing things in a different way. Looking at Malfoy, for instance, she was noticing things she had missed before. The length of him, how slender he was, the sharp contrast of the black robes with his pale skin. She was freezing, but too transfixed to move away. The potion didn't stop her from realizing that this was her enemy she was admiring, it just kept her from feeling bad about it. Her eyes wandered downwards without shame, since she couldn't think of anything she would rather be doing. He had loosened his collar in the hot classroom and the hollow at his throat was exposed; she reached out and traced the skin with a finger. He didn't move. She was more than eager to come closer; his body heat was magnetic. There were faint noises in the background, but she wasn't paying attention. He let out a hiss as she slipped her freezing hands under his shirt, but didn't step back. She moved them around to his back, which was satisfyingly muscled, and breathed in his scent. She felt his arms move around her as she tilted her head up. Finally, he responded.

Draco had kept perfectly motionless the whole time she was perusing him, but his mind was very active. One part of it was noting the places she looked longest at and when she smiled, because he was very vain. The other half was planning busily: if the way she was taking her time was any indication, she hadn't gotten enough of the stuff to start a real fire in her body. There was a good chance she would remember everything that happened during these half-drugged moments. When she cuddled up to him, he let a hand drift to her lower back, holding her lightly against him. She was shorter than he expected, and her shoulder blades were small under his other hand.

A snuffling noise came from the area of his collar bone. She was sniffing him! He froze, wondering whether dog-like characteristics were a side effect of lust potions. But then she exhaled, with a big goofy smile on her face, and he realized what she was doing. Well, when in Rome...He sniffed her hair tentatively. It _did_ get up your nose – he pulled away in disgust, without catching her scent. Despite frizzy hair, Draco believed in doing things properly - even to someone who might not remember afterwards - so he drew a long line down her spine with his thumb. She arched appreciatively into his hand, like a cat.

Finally, he bent his head, dropping two indolent kisses on her upturned mouth. She opened right up, kissing back with an enthusiasm that made up for her lack of finesse. He was just envisioning the peaceful, gentle, _lame_ kisses that he could see as their future, when she bit him. He jerked back, shocked, and tasted blood. She looked up at him with...no, Gryffindor's didn't smirk. And they certainly didn't look up at a man with half-lidded, smug eyes. He stared at her for a moment, reconsidering. Of course. This was the girl who had kneed him on the train; the girl who had punched him many years ago.

Draco had heard the other students coming out of the greenhouses long before he kissed her, and it was without surprise that he saw them gathered in a group, staring.

"_Slytherin playboy and general sex god seen kissing Gryffindor workaholic_" - yes, he could see the title of the school newspaper now. But the biting...No, he hadn't foreseen that.

---------------------

_Please, review and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

J.K. owns everything except the plot.

Preview of next chapter: someone gets kissed awake, Hermione tails Draco, and the stair climber is revealed. 


	4. Slightly Malicious

Chapter Four

Slightly Malicious

There was no such heading in _The Warthog's Tail_, but the news was all over the school by sundown anyway.

Hermione had been given the counter-potion by Snape and was let miss the rest of her classes to recover. Various people stopped by through the day and Seamus brought her all the rumors, as they had gotten increasingly more ridiculous. Harry and Ron had heard only the most sordid of versions and it had taken her the better part of an hour to convince them that no, she had not thrown off her clothes and yelled "Take me now!" at Malfoy. Ron was all for attacking Malfoy for taking advantage, but Hermione wouldn't let him.

"You'd only make it worse, Ron."

"But we have to -"

"Hermione's right." Said Harry, who had been rather quiet. "Let's try to let it blow over."

Hermione tried to send him a grateful look, but he wasn't looking at her.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Blaise gave Draco a half-joking ribbing about how he probably liked it far too much considering who he was with. Draco, however, had no guilt at all about the little episode; all work and no play makes Draco a bored boy, after all. Besides, he loved being in the spotlight, and the usual awed glances as he walked through the halls had been getting boring. Now the gazes of the other students were laced with scandalized appreciation. The lucky few who had come upon them on the way back from Herbology were full of descriptions: 'Oooh, the way she leaned into him!' or 'I rather think there was some tongue there, mate!' Draco's first purpose was achieved: the names Malfoy and Granger were being talked about in conjunction.

He knew it was working when he rounded a corner the next afternoon and found himself face to face with Potter, who gave him a glare that was partly venomous, partly calculating. Further proof came that night in Great Hall, when the Boy-Who-Should-Have-Died-Damn-Him manoeuvred Hermione into a seat facing _away_ from the Slytherin table, and was so obvious about it that even Blaise (who had sworn off all dealings in the matter) remarked on it.

Hermione, for her part, was surprised by the large amount of girls who were jealous of her for having kissed Malfoy. She began to hear tales of his prowess in other areas, and the stories only served to make her more curious, and, she had to admit, titillated.

Gradually the kiss stopped being treachery and became something to mull over in sensory detail at night. She rationalized that it was perfectly natural to appreciate the episode and she was fair minded enough to recognize that Malfoy was an excellent kisser despite his status as prat extraordinaire.

At about the same time Draco was getting a death-glare from Harry in one end of the castle, Hermione was starting to think, in a small hidden part of her mind, about the possibility of a repeat kiss.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

A first year Slytherin girl made the attempt to seduce Caspian a few evenings later. Draco and gang were doing homework by the common room fire when Blaise noticed. He tapped Draco with his quill and pointed.

"Delmont's getting himself into hot water over there, look."

The twins usually did their work in chairs a little away from the fire, for privacy's sake. It was on this rare occasion that Mara wasn't with her brother, and the chair beside Caspian was unoccupied. As they watched, a girl slid into it and batted a flirtatious eyelash at him.

"My, this is sooner than last year," murmured Selene. It usually happened at least once, when Caspian's beauty or air of mystery conquered his diffidence, and some girl fell in love with him despite never having talked to him before. His total disinterest in the face of their advances was quite amusing, but usually only lasted for a few minutes before they got the hint.

"Mara usually won't leave him this early" said Blaise. "I wonder what she's up to?"

"She's on an errand," said Draco.

"Shhh." Selene waved a hand; she had a great appreciation for malicious humour and wanted to see everything. Blaise leaned back in his chair so she could see better and mouthed 'What?' to Draco. Draco contemplated doing a very complicated mime to explain, but gave up and just mouthed 'Later' back.

They turned their attention to the corner, where the girl had crossed her legs, allowing her skirt (with muted catcalls from Blaise) to ride up one smooth thigh. Caspian's countenance was uninterested, but unfortunately for him it was also beautiful, so the girl wasn't discouraged. She countered by placing a hand on his knee and leaning forward so he had no choice but to look down at her in surprise. They saw the girl's eyes widen a little; from her perspective Draco supposed the boy must be quite stunning.

She inclined further, murmured something. Caspian made to rise, shaking his head, but the girl – in the boldest attempt they had yet seen, as Blaise said later – was too quick for him. She jumped to her feet as well, forcing Caspian to put a hand out to stop himself from falling back into the chair. The girl – "She's got bloody seeker's reflexes!" whistled Blaise – was within a hairs breath of kissing him before they could blink. Caspian turned his head away at the last moment, towards their table, and Draco saw the spymaster's eyes change from innocent green to their natural red, like a cat's third eyelid sliding up. He heard Selene blow out breath beside him; Caspian stood up fully and spun back towards the girl.

Draco thought that in the firelight Caspian must have appeared to her like some sort of avenging angel; red irises, a halo of white hair and the colorless, perfect face. From the table the effect was less dramatic, they only saw his black-robed form take some quick steps back and disappear up the staircase.

"Well!" Said Selene.

"She had a bloody cheek," said Blaise. "Should I go after him?"

"Let Mara, when she gets back," replied Selene. "Delmont wasn't upset, you know, so much as surprised...That's why he forgot to maintain his spell..." She looked back at the girl, who was sitting, looking rather shocked, in the chair Caspian had vacated. "I suppose I should go and talk to her."

"Yes, do," said Draco, who had been looking thoughtful. "And if anyone sees Mara tell her to come to me before she goes upstairs."

"Not a bad body, mind you," said Blaise when Selene had left the table.

"Do you ever stop thinking with your dick? She's a first year, for crying out loud."

Blaise sniffed. "Better than banging a mudblood."

"Zabini..."

Blaise jumped up, stretched, sat down, crossed and uncrossed his arms and scowled. Sudden attacks of the jitters were characteristic of arousal in the darker boy, particularly regarding Selene.

"What now??"

"Did you see her tonight? When she smiled earlier?"

"Um...What about it?"

"Her teeth were pointed, and her mouth..." Blaise screwed up his face in a mixture of desire and dejection.

Draco looked over at Selene, who was bending over the first year with an air of attention that was slightly malicious. One of the most alluring things about Selene was that her dreamy qualities were tempered by a streak of very Slytherin maliciousness. This was what made her impersonal, and also what made her interesting.

You'd think she wasn't paying attention and then look over and she'd be looking right back with that malicious laughter in her face, like a private joke that she understood better than you did. Then a moment later she would be back in her chair sleeping again. As though she had all the knowledge in the world but was too lazy to share it.

Draco had realized after a while that Selene never knew what effect she had had on himself and Blaise, that she wasn't an intentional tease; and that made it easier to let her go. If she didn't realize there was a battle, he didn't mind losing it, at least not to Blaise. So he had moved on; Blaise she continued to fascinate.

"I thought I saw you going off with Courtney Wixbey last night." Draco said.

"Oh, that was just the usual relief of sexual frustration." Blaise sighed. "Everything's still the same as last year, I'm afraid. She doesn't notice me any more than she notices Hagrid."

Draco looked outraged. "I can't believe you just compared yourself to that oversized lump. The sexual tension has eloped with your self-esteem."

Blaise shrugged, then grinned. "Nothing a good shag can't fix."

"Well, you'll have to be careful," said Draco. "You're going to run out of girls who'll want to be 'relief'."

Blaise looked back at him out of black eyes framed with eyelashes that made girls cry with envy, and said nothing. Draco was being sarcastic, of course.

"I saw her talking to what's-his-name-Habs this morning. She looked...Animated."

"Oh?" Draco knew why this would be worrisome; Selene was almost never animated. "What were they talking about?"

"I don't know, that's what bothers me."

"I don't see why; it's not like she's sleeping with him."

Blaise cast him an annoyed look and didn't reply. Draco, who had no understanding of love, found Blaise's inability to make a move unfathomable.

Selene came over, ending all further conversation on that topic. "Well, that takes care of that. I told her Delmont was one of Malfoy's protected and not to bother him again, all the while being very sympathetic and understanding."

"Humph," said Blaise, but quietly.

"It's always a first year, you know; I suppose all the others know better. Well, I'm off to bed." She drifted off towards the stairs.

"I'm going to bed as well," said Blaise.

"The only reason you were staying around is gone, Zabini, so go ahead. You're not going to hurt _my_ feelings with your obvious tactlessness."

"I don't think you have any feelings..." Blaise's voice trailed off as he left, ostentatiously to the boy's dorm but more probably to the secret passage behind the painting of Wyd the Dragon, which lead to other, more interesting parts of the castle.

_Ok: next chapter someone wakes with a kiss. I just had to get the order right. I'm almost finished Chap 5, so it won't be as long, I promise! In the meantime, I appreciate your reviews._


	5. The Horrible Fascination

Chapter Five

The Horrible Fascination of Voyeurism

Blaise, of course, hadn't forgotten Mara's 'errand', and was quick to ask Draco about it the next morning. Once filled in, he was appreciative.

"It seems to cover all bases, right enough. Annoy Potter, make Granger jealous. Your two life goals lived up to in one morning, Draco; I'm proud of you."

Draco frowned at the use of his first name, but let it go. Blaise was only whimsical when he was pissed off. Draco wondered idly if he was irritated at having to ask; usually Blaise was kept well abreast of his plans.

"I can't imagine why Chang agreed, though," Blaise continued, adding; "Not that your charms and agreeable manner don't make you immediately loveable." He grinned toothily; definitely irritated. "What did you pull this time? Blackmail? Threats to family members?"

"You doubt my gentlemanliness?"

"Is that even a word?"

"I know how to be a gentleman you know; I've read about it in books."

"Now you sound like the Mudblood." Blaise said sourly. Draco quickly averted the conversation.

"She agreed because her brother is in a spot of Ministry-related trouble in London. _Was_ in a spot of trouble, that is. Chang will simply be repaying a favour; none of this crass blackmail that you speak of." They both grinned; everyone knew how Draco's 'favour' system worked.

"You got your Father to pull a favour with the Minister so you could dangle Cho Chang in Potter's face?" Said Blaise incredulously.

"Of course not. Father doesn't even know about my Granger plans; they're my own little hobby. He was going to bail the fellow for other reasons and I happened to get wind. But Chang won't know that."

"So not a gentleman, then."

Draco smiled a little. "I guess not."

xxxxxxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxx

Hermione woke that same morning to find someone's lips pressing against her own. At first she thought she was mired in a particularly vivid dream about Harry, the kind that she had been enjoying for the past few nights. It was an enthusiastic kiss; almost as though the kisser was waiting for the wrath of the heavens to fall on his head at any minute, and wanted to make the best of things while he could.

Hermione opened her eyes.

"Ron!"

The redhead nearly fell off the bed.

"What the...?!"

"Shite --Hermione! I should – It's not what you think!"

"It's exactly what I think!" Hermione sat up and tried to get a grasp on the situation. The realities of being woken with a kiss fell dramatically short of her daydreams. "What time is it? And how did you get up here?"

Ron decided to answer the safest question. "It's about six in the morning." He said, bright pink.

"Hermione? What's going on?" A sleepy voice came from the other side of the red plush curtain. Hermione imagined what would happen if Lavender found Ron in her room, and panicked.

"Nothing - Don't worry!" She turned to Ron and motioned frantically.

Three minutes later, she was dressed – the fastest jeans and t-shirt she had ever put on – and was standing with Ron in the thankfully deserted common room.

"OK, Ron, explain to me why you were up in the girl's room in your pyjamas at six in the morning kissing me awake." It sounded rather nice, actually, but not with _Ron._

"Listen, it's not what you think. I didn't want to kiss you." He caught sight of her expression and added hastily: "It wasn't my idea, I mean. Not that I didn't want to, because you're very...um... kissable, and it was very nice, even though you were, you know, asleep-"

"RON."

"It was Harry! It was a dare!"

Hermione did a double take. "Harry put you up to this?"

"I didn't have anything to do with it, honestly." He thought for a moment. "Actually, I have to go and kill him now, so if you don't mind..."

"No, wait." He looked apprehensively down at her, so she added, "It's all right; I'm not mad."

Truth be told, she wasn't sure what she was. Relived, definitely, that Ron hadn't voluntarily kissed her. It would be a huge complication if he had, because she hadn't felt anything except friendship towards him for the past six months. She _thought_ that she was happy Harry had been the one to suggest the dare, because...Except, surely Harry wouldn't want anyone else to kiss a girl he liked. Which probably meant that he didn't like her, then. There was probably a great deal of fire whiskey involved, she reassured herself.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I got past the alarm?" Ron was looking extremely relived that the wrath of the heavens had been postponed.

"The alarm didn't go off," she said slowly, cluing in. "How did you get past it?"

"That was my idea. I figured there would be some way around the alarm spells."

"Don't tell me you fiddled the magic, because I won't believe you. It's really old, since about the time of Gromilda the...Fourth? Sixth?" She tilted her head, frowning.

"Well, the first time I tried was the night before last with the invisibility cloak – that one failed-"

"It certainly did," said Hermione, remembering.

"Yes, well," said Ron hastily. "Then I – are you listening, this is the best bit – I got the boys to levitate me"

"What?"

"If three of them did it together, they could just keep me from touching the stairs." He said proudly.

She gaped. "It took three people? How many people were in on this? No- don't tell me." She paused. "But that was clever, Ron. Amazing, actually; loads of guys have tried to get up there over the years."

Ron gave her a long look. She realized belatedly that probably loads of guys had tried and _succeeded_. There were windows, after all. She stored that intriguing thought away for a later time.

"But that doesn't mean I won't tell McGonagall about it..."

"Aw, Hermione..."

"Hush." She said severely. "I have a duty to protect my fellow women from the machinations of you boys." But she wasn't being very serious. She was past her prudery days, and this opened up all kinds of possibilities... But let Ron think she was going straight to the Head. A little worrying about detention would do him good.

XxXxXxXxX

She made Ron do homework until Harry got up, and then they all went down to breakfast together. The sight of early-morning Harry gave her more jitters than usual, and Ron kept casting her anxious looks while wolfing down his scrambled eggs, so the only truly relaxed person was Harry, who read the sports section and drank pumpkin juice as usual. Hermione found the reading of papers at breakfast a very domestic affair, and the impulse to pour him a wifely cup of tea always became overbearing.

"I can't believe I got my whole transfiguration essay finished." Ron said wonderingly. "I have the whole day free now."

"This is why I get up _early_ Ron; I keep telling you. It makes the day so much longer, it's amazing."

"Spare me, Hermione, I beg you." Said Harry, from behind his newspaper. "It's the weekend; no-one in their right mind would be talking about schoolwork voluntarily."

"It's odd having a break so quickly, though. I mean, we haven't even had a Herbology class yet."

"Herbology is ruined this year, anyway; it's double with the Slytherins." Said Ron gloomily.

"I forgot about that," said Hermione, and lapsed into thoughtful silence.

Harry's green eyes appeared over the newspaper. "Say Herm... What are you up to today anyway?"

"I wish you wouldn't use that...What is it, Harry?"

She turned to see what he was staring at and got a glimpse of Malfoy, sweeping into the Great Hall as through he were royalty, a dark haired girl decorating his right arm. It was Cho Chang.

Hermione turned automatically to see Harry's reaction. He and Cho had dated on-again-off-again for months and Harry had never been clear on who dumped whom in the end. Malfoy was ushering Cho into the place of honour at his right.

"No way," said Harry.

"Hey, it's Cho Chang!" said Ron, who was a step or two behind events. "Hey – she's with Malfoy!"

The same thought was occurring to others in the Hall, and there was an immediate murmur of gossip. It was unusual for students to sit at other house tables; if opposite-house couples wanted to sit together they would generally eat elsewhere.

"She doesn't seem to be concerned," said Ron, after a moment. Indeed, Cho looked perfectly happy; Malfoy's arm was along the back of her chair and he was pouring her orange juice.

"Actually, they look quite nice together," said Hermione, and felt a little twinge of jealousy.

"No they don't," snapped Harry. It looked like Cho had dumped him after all. "What on earth is she doing with him? She must have lost her mind."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Somehow, everywhere Hermione went over the weekend, Malfoy and Chang were there as well. They took all their meals together, held hands in the halls – since when did Malfoy hold hands? - and got thrown out of the library for "incessant giggling", as Madame Pince put it. Even with all the strange things Malfoy had been up to, Hermione couldn't imagine him giggling, so she assumed that must have been Cho's fault.

Her dislike of the girl – an old emotion from the time Cho dated Harry – flared back into life. Because the worst thing was, much as she tried to control herself, she couldn't stop the little prickle of envy that arose whenever she saw Cho with Malfoy. Only a few days before he had kissed _her_ and given her fuel for secret daydreams, the scoundrel. She decided she was furious with Malfoy as well, for making handholding and library-giggling look so appealing.

Things came to a head on Sunday morning, when she turned a corner to find them snogging in front of her. She was so startled for a moment that she couldn't move, and then when they didn't notice and kept it up, she didn't move for a different reason: the horrible fascination of voyeurism.

They made such a lovely couple that watching them kiss was like watching a wizard painting; two perfect subjects plus motion. How perfectly their mouths fit together in the kiss; how aesthetic their position was, with his arms encircling hers and fingers twining, relaxed, at her waist.

Hermione stood with her mouth open for a full twenty seconds before coming to her senses and bolting down the corridor.

XxXxX

So she missed the unfolding of the beautiful scene, which happened just as though someone had called 'Cut!' after she left.

Malfoy stopped pinning Cho's arms to her sides and she shoved away, grimacing.

"I think you left bruises, you-"

"If you didn't move I wouldn't have to -!"

They glared at each other. Cho had far more spunk than Draco had imagined, and was making things rather difficult. He had envisioned enjoying this part of the plan, what with all the snogging that was in the script, but Cho was stiff as a bloody board and just as friendly. She pinched him when he tried to hold her hand and her muted screams of rage, when he introduced the part they had just enacted, had gotten them kicked out of the library.

The whole weekend was turning into a bit of a nightmare. He grit his teeth.

"We are very nearly finished with each other, Miss Chang," he said carefully. "I only need your co-operation for the remainder of the afternoon."

"Thank god!" She turned away, massaging her arms.

"Don't forget your brother," He said, a tad dangerously.

She swished her long hair out of her face and stared at him. "Believe me, I haven't."

He shrugged. "Let's go, then. Do you remember your lines?"

xxxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxxx

And so it was that Hermione, trying to get some serious studying done in the library, was disturbed when Cho and a gaggle of girls came giggling in and sat, of all places, at the table right next to hers. Hermione scowled ferociously but none of them were looking and didn't take the point.

"You two looked so nice today, Cho – did you pick your outfit to match his?"

"No, of course not. That's one of the great things about him; he almost always wears black. It's so easy to complement our wardrobes," sighed Cho.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Typical.

"Tell us about yesterday evening, though," said one of the girls, a pretty thing with a small, angular face that Hermione didn't recognise.

"Girls, I don't kiss and tell," said Cho, coyly.

"Oh, come on," sighed the next girl, who had freckles and also wasn't familiar to Hermione. Not that she kept tabs on whom Cho hung out with, but she thought she'd at least be familiar with all the older Ravenclaws. Just went to show how big Hogwarts was getting, Hermione supposed.

At the next table over, Mara said, "You won't be able to hold it back for very long Cho, I know you."

There was a pause, while everyone looked at everyone else in the situation any actor is familiar with.

"Er-" Said Mara.

"Yes!" said Selene, finally locating a copy of the scrip in her bag and laying it on the table so they could see. "Er, I mean – 'You wouldn't want us to simply expire from the suspense, would you?'"

Cho ground her teeth. "_Who wrote this idiotic piece of _-"

"_Your line_!" hissed Selene back.

"'Oh, all right girls, I'll tell you what Malfoy and I did last night,'" said Cho clearly, then "_It was him, wasn't it?? No-one else would have such an insipid idea of how girls-_"

"_Just read it!"_

Meanwhile, Mara read the wrong line in confusion. "'We snogged passionately, of course!'"

Hermione, listening intently now that she knew it was about Malfoy, was momentarily confused. Cho said smoothly,

"Exactly! You're right, um...Hester. That's exactly what we did."

"_Hester??"_

"We snogged passionately!" declared Cho, throwing caution to the winds.

"And he was very good at it, I dare say!" said Selene, eyes wide.

"You dare say?" cried Cho. "Of course he was! Absolutely spiffing!"

Mara and Selene swapped desperate looks. They had not volunteered for this job, and though Mara was very good at acting, she usually didn't use a script. And certainly not one written by Draco.

"He was simply marvellous, darling!" said Cho. "He...He..." She glanced at the script for some help – "'He took me in his arms and kissed me till – till my passion heightened to a peak?? What sort of drabble was he-"

"Anyway!" Selene interrupted. "Were you going to meet up again by any chance?" She tapped the script meaningfully; this was the most important part of the whole affair.

Luckily, Cho was equal to the challenge. "Oh yes," she said, leaning forward so that Hermione could hear. "We're going to meet at the Astrology tower at midnight tonight," she breathed dramatically, and, finishing with barely a hitch: "to consummate our love...beneath the stars."

"How exciting," said Mara flatly.

"Yes, it is rather isn't it, Hester," said Cho, who couldn't resist.

"But the Astrology Tower is forbidden at midnight!" said Selene.

"Yes, if you were caught..."

"...By a prefect or other authority figure..."

"...We would be in a lot of trouble." Agreed Cho solemnly. "But it's all worth it, so I'm going anyway." And then, because a little repetition never hurt anything: "At midnight tonight."

_A/N: I promise more action right at the beginning of Chapter 6! This was getting long, so I thought I'd split them up. Review please!_


	6. School Rule 365

**Well shock me shock me, I finally posted. Enjoy...I've pre-written the next chapter as well, so there should be another one along in a bit.** _**Disclaimer - only what I make up is mine; everything else belongs to J.K.**_

Chapter Six

School Rule #365

Hermione Granger, top student of Hogwarts School, Prefect of Gryffindor house, and three-time winner of the 'Most Organized Student' award, snuck along a darkened corridor and prepared to uphold Dorm Rule #12:"_That a student will not remove from his or her dorm after midnight, unless holding Prefect or Head status."_

Of course Malfoy would be exempt from that one because he was also a prefect, but Hermione was also hoping to uphold School Rule #365: "_That the Astronomy Tower shall not be occupied by any student without permission, except for classroom-related activities." _She didn't think that consummating love beneath the stars would be considered a classroom related activity.

At the foot of the Tower stairs, she paused and listened, wand out. She didn't want to be witness to anything unpleasant, so she had come half an hour early and was going to lay in wait until they started something incriminating. Which, in her books, was to show their faces at all.

A few clouds and the moon greeted her as she emerged into what was not an unpleasant night for the middle of Spring in England. The flagstones were dotted with the old Magitrix Stellascopes, providing good ground cover; Hermione chose a Stellascope in the shadows beside the door and tucked herself under it's protective tarp.

And waited.

After a time, she started to shiver and had to perform a mild heat spell. The moon was covered by an errant cloud – did she hear the door squeak? No, the shadows remained undisturbed. She checked her watch; both miscreants were almost half an hour late. The breeze died to a whisper; her bottom started to get cold despite the heat spells, and the thought occurred to her that they might have changed the meeting to another night, and that she may be waiting fruitlessly.

On the other hand, if she gave up and ventured down the stairs, she might run into them face first on their tardy way up. Indecision gripped her, the cold gripped her; a hand snaked under the tarp and also gripped her.

She screamed and thrashed around, making the heavy Stellascope rock dangerously. There was an expletive from her attacker as her foot connected with an unseen part of anatomy, and the hand let go. She squirmed out the other side and made for the protective shadow of the rest of the scopes, but heavy footsteps cut her off and she looked up at...Of course.

"Malfoy!"

He anticipated her by seizing her wand arm and tucking it behind her back, not enough to hurt but enough to stop her from hexing him into the next millennium.

"Granger." He leant back to avoid her left-handed swing. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Let go of me!" She scratched at him until he grabbed her other wrist as well.

Effectively immobilized, Hermione looked about. "Where's Cho?"

He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Sorry?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Malfoy. I had reliable informants! You were meeting her up here illegally at midnight, and I..." She trailed off. "I must have fallen asleep. She's come and gone, hasn't she?"

"If Chang was up here, she certainly wasn't with me. Your informants, whoever they are, are not up to standard." This last with an inexplicable smirk.

"Don't fool yourself, Malfoy. You're here, aren't you? I'm going to report you to McGonagall first thing tomorrow."

"Funny, that was exactly what I was going to do to you."

They stared at each other.

"But I was here first!"

He squeezed her captive wrists. "But I have the upper hand."

Hermione felt pleasantly like she had entered a romance novel, where the attractive baddie had pinned the shivering heroine. She tugged at her wrists in an extremely half-hearted manner.

"You can't report me; I wasn't doing anything illegal."

"Alas, according to School Rule #365, you can't be here without permission, unless it's for a classroom-related activity. And I don't think hiding under a Stellascope is considered a classroom-related activity."

"You've read the rules too?"

"Only the ones I break on a regular basis."

She sighed. "Well, we can't report each other, that would be stupid."

"It seems we have come to an impasse," he agreed.

"I still want you to let go of me."

"If I let go of you, you'll hex me," he said, reasonably enough.

"My fingers are getting frostbite, I wouldn't be able to."

"You do feel rather cold..."

"Yes, and my toes – oi! What are you – put that away!"

He had transferred her wrists to one hand, and pulled out his wand.

"What are you doing?!"

"Casting a...Ow!"

He hopped on one foot, unfortunately not releasing her arms in the process.

"Don't point that thing anywhere near me!" She hissed, the romance novel fading. She was, after all, at the top of the tower where no one ever came, with her worst enemy and no access to her wand.

"Granger-"

"Just let go!"

She threw her whole weight backwards, the way toddlers do when they want to break free, and he was jerked forward. She kicked him in the shin again.

"Ow! Granger!"

She twisted so her elbow could bend and tried to smash him in the face – he was too tall, damn him – and then actually reduced herself to biting at his hand where it closed over hers.

He responded by lifting his – and her – arms over her head where she couldn't reach them with her mouth.

"Granger...You are the most..." She looked up at his face. He was laughing at her.

He was laughing at her, the twonk, and her fingers were going to fall off at any second.

She resorted to her final, most trusted weapon, and scythed her knee up towards his groin. Apparently those sort of painful tricks didn't work twice, however. He twisted his hips aside easily, and, getting fed up, pushed her into a wall. Which involved his whole body being pressed up against hers, Hermione noticed.

"Well, isn't this familiar," he purred, right into her ear.

"Familiar?" she squeaked, her brain having gone haywire.

"Just like on the train," he said.

"Or on the lawn," she heard herself say, then chomped down on her lips to prevent them from moving without her permission. The movement brought his eyes to her mouth, where they narrowed slightly.

"The lawn...Yes, that's right. When you jumped me and expressed your overwhelming desire for my wonderful physique. Yes, it's all coming back to me now."

"I DO NOT DESIRE YOU," she said, speaking a little louder than she had meant to.

He winced. "For Christ's sake Granger, way to ruin the moment."

"I..." She said, appalled that he'd actually acknowledged that there was a 'moment'.

"What was I saying...Oh, yes, that you desired me." He smiled. "Do feel free to continue in that vein."

Still pinned into submission, she glared at him. "I would never say I desired you, Malfoy. Not even if I was being tortured with the unforgivable curses." She tended to get dramatic when she was stressed.

He kissed her neck.

She gasped and jumped like she'd been struck with lightning. Ignoring this, he kissed her jaw, then the sensitive skin below her ear.

"There are many different..." He kissed her earlobe, then bit it gently.

"...types of torture." He slid her cloak away from her shoulder and kissed slowly, maddeningly across her collarbone to the base of her throat.

Hermione felt like she was in one of her own daydreams; exactly the way they played out in her head. She held still, and concentrated on Draco's sensitive tongue, currently dipping into the hollow at her throat. Any minute now...

He straightened. She breathed in and out, saying nothing, eyes fixed on his mouth. Then, just like the perfect script, he leant down; their breaths intertwined, and her eyes slid shut.

But no kiss came. Her eyes flew open as she suspected a prank, but there he was, hovering a few inches from her face. She held her breath for a second, confused, until she realized what he wanted.

In a significant deviation from her script, he wanted _her_ to kiss _him; _in a non-verbal admission of desire. All it would take was the tilt of her head, but this time, she wouldn't be able to plead intoxication if she got caught. Still, it wasn't like she was admitting her undying love; it was easy enough to admit to lust. Eyes still open, she tipped her mouth up to meet his.

He had won the first battle.

There was a brief power struggle as they kissed; neither closed their eyes. But he was better; she had no hope of winning. He used every trick, kissing aggressively, toying with her. She relented, twining her hands around his neck and letting him press her against the wall.

The cold air skimmed their skin, the moon bestowed it's frosty enchanted glow, and the two entwined figures on the tower became, for a moment, part of a tableau as lovely as the one Hermione had gazed jealously at the day before.

Hermione felt her daydream become complete reality as she tilted her head upwards to demand another kiss - and received it. They kissed until they ran out of breath, then pulled apart, panting and filling the shadows with their warmth. It had gotten late, and the night had deepened into a piercing, cloudy cold. She shivered and looked at him wonderingly.

Draco, still holding her, could barely see her face in the darkness.

"Light..." he muttered, and was about to let her go to get his wand when someone obligingly raised a lamp. He read her face with satisfaction. Ha! No-one could resist his charms!

Hermione gasped in horror and Draco belatedly realized that _someone_ had to be holding the lamp.

"Well, I never," said Filch. "Two prefects canoodling on the forbidden tower! Just wait until Severus hears about this!"

xXxXxXxX


End file.
